Kaijin Fighter: So I Have to Make Monsters, So What?

Chapter 1705: Home Sweet Home - Frosttusk

’Alright, just double-checking, did Hakon arrive safely?’

[He arrived safely and promptly vomited.]

’That tracks... also, why is Frosttusk feeling melancholy?’

[Well...]

...I am Frosttusk...

It had been...centuries since I had last breathed the air here.

Since I last felt the cold touch of the valley air upon my skin.

Then again, I suppose it would be more accurate to say "metallic hide."

Remembering that I wasn’t exactly flesh anymore, I flexed my hand to remind myself that I could still use it as well as my old one. Although, I couldn’t help but feel...sad.

"Honored ancestor, are you okay?" Hakon asked me, having noticed the forlorn expression forming on my face.

"The valley floor looked the same as it did in my memories, so I can’t help but feel a little forlorn over the sights," I had partially lied to the child. "It’s...an odd feeling."

"Wow~! I didn’t know you were a big old softie, Frosty," Hurricroak teased me as we kept walking forward. "Wait, I think I’m supposed to call you Frederick right now."

"Either is fine," I replied, assuring my companion...no...my sister?

"If you do actually need a rest, though, let us know," Nepherage piped up from the back of the travelling group. "I know it must be hard to be here given your...well, you know what I mean."

"It’s...okay..."

The last time I was here, I was mortal and had plummeted to my death while fighting the Ice-Blood mammoth.

I remember feeling extreme cold, then becoming soaked after driving my axe into the mammoth’s brain, and then...nothing.

Everything had faded into black, into an inky void that I couldn’t remember but knew it was a place that only the dead could go.

But then...I was no longer in that void.

Several dozen years later and a couple months after my death anniversary, I woke up in a new body, a new name, and...a new jarl.

"Holy shit..." said the man who would become my new jarl. "You’re fucking huge!"

The first few things I saw when I woke up, when I was brought back, I thought I had ended up in hell...at least for a second.

There was a giant mechanical snake, a big pool of lava, and a young man that looked as if he had barely become an adult a few scant years ago.

Instinctually, I knew what he was and what I had become.

Intellectually, I understood what I was and what he had done.

Deep in my newly minted heart and soul, though, I was...just shocked.

And now, after weeks of loyal service and battles that my past self would’ve considered insane... here I was.

Back home in the valley that had forged me a lifetime ago.

It was...beautiful.

But...something was wrong.

And I wasn’t the only one who sensed it.

"Hey, do you guys hear that?" Hurricroak asked as she marched ahead of the group and made a bit of a show of cupping her ears towards the direction she was trying to listen from. "It sounds like...fighting."

Hurricroak’s hearing wasn’t wrong, as I could smell there being something worse present.

Something that I was quite familiar with.

"Blood," I muttered. "It’s fresh."

There was a smell of blood in the air, but not of a successful hunt.

It was the scent of blood that could only come from war.

"Wait... Logos and Pathos said that the coordinates we had landed were supposed to be somewhere close to the last reported location of the Stormsinger tribe." Nepherage pointed out to Hurricroak and me. "You don’t think—"

"Mother! Father!"

"Wait, Hakon!"

My young descendant proceeded to rush right past us, a look of manic panic plain on his face as he used aether to enhance his forward movements.

I could understand why he did this, as any young man would panic if they thought their family was in danger.

[We have to follow.]

[Agreed.]

[Ditch the disguises.]

As the one most connected to this land, I had taken the lead of this charge as we went after Hakon.

How I longed to have my trusty axe in hand as I entered this battle... but I suppose my fists will have to suffice for now.

As we followed after Hakon, the sound of battle became even louder, and I could begin to hear the noise of conversation that only kaijin could hear.

[Chaos Speech.]

[Sir Slug-at-Arms, they’re not going to last much longer without our help!]

[I know that, but this fucker is weirdly tough! Whoa!]

[Damn, whatever they’re fighting, it doesn’t sound fun,] Hurricroak commented as she followed after me. [I wonder what they’re fighting...]

And mixed in those statements fit only for a kaijin’s ears, I could hear the voices of my former kin clashing against the words of their enemies.

Who sounded like former friends.

"Were we not brothers once upon a time? Why do you attack us with such ferocity?!"

"The Mistress demands your blood! And we are pleased to fill her cup!"

"Traitors!"

Once we reached the top of a hill that loomed over the battlefield, the three of us saw the Stormsingers, my former kin, locked in battle against warriors waving a brown banner depicting the skull of a hammer-tailed lizard.

The sight of this particular banner filled me with rage.

[Those traitorous dogs! How could they!] I shouted, feeling more heated than whenever I threw myself into a furnace. As the rage boiled inside me, I could feel the world around me getting colder and ice forming beneath my feet.

Hurricroak and Nepherage looked at me with concerned confusion, so I provided a quick explanation.

[The ones attacking the Stormsingers are known as the Tremorscale tribe,] I explained to my sisters. [Their founder and our founder were brothers and made a vow to always come to each other’s aid in come hell or high water. By the time I was chief, that bond had cooled down, but it still should’ve been one of friendship. The fact that they’re attacking us... I can barely imagine the cause.]

[Is it at all related to that big-ass dragon?] Hurricroak asked.

[I think it’s called a lindwurm,] Nepherage corrected.

Neither of them was wrong about the beast keeping Slug-at-Arms and Terra at bay.

The two warriors from the Abyssal Lands were fighting what I could identify as a Citrine-Horn Lindwurm, a fifth-tiered dragon aether beast known to use dragon force to empower its physical attacks.

I could see a collar around its neck, suggesting that this was a war beast as opposed to a wild aether beast, but this was unusual for the Tremorscale tribe.

They weren’t known to tame aether beasts, let alone dragon-blooded ones.

Something was off...but now wasn’t the time to explore this question. Now was the time for action; answers could wait for later.

And thankfully, I was warmed up enough to be able to talk properly.

[Nepherage, the Citrine-Horn Lindwurm, is weak to fire-affinity attacks. You should know what to do.]

[On it.]

As soon as she gave her assurance, Nepherage launched herself towards the lindwurm, fire shooting out of the bottom of her feet like jets.

[Hurricroak, go and make sure Hakon stays safe. I can see from here that he’s searching for their parents. I would rather not have to deal with a family tragedy this early in our journey.]

[On it,] Hurricroak nodded as she crouched down in preparation to leap. However, before she did so, she asked me a rather pertinent question.

[What about you? What are you going to do?]

Before I could even answer Hurricroak’s question, the sound of an explosion in the distance gave the answer for me.

[Address whatever that is and deal with whoever caused it.]

[A marvelous plan.]

...

[Dogu Slammer!]

[Echoing Frost!]

BANG!

Floating over the battling lower-ranked warriors of the Storm Singers and the Tremorscale, the respective champions of both sides were tearing into each other.

To be more precise, Patriarch Zhen Shi was fighting the Tremorscale’s chieftain while Matriarch Zhen Xun Tian was dealing with the clan’s ancestral elder.

Zhen Shi’s son, Zhen Long, and grandson, Zhen Hai, were busy dealing with four of the Tremoscale’s elders.

They had assistance from the Storm Singer’s tribe’s chieftain earlier on in the battle, but he had to bail to make sure his wife was safe from harm.

In other words, they were in a deadlock.

However, the Tremorscales were looking to flip the gameboard in their favor.

And they didn’t mind using dirty tricks to do so.

"Bah! We can’t get a clean hit on either of these stupid outsiders!"

"Quick! Use the bomb! Use the bomb!"

"Right!"

From a spatial treasure on their hip, the elders from the Tremorscale tribe pulled out a dangerous one-time-use weapon that could instantly carbonize anyone within its blast radius.

"Oh fuck!"

Unfortunately, as the weapon sailed through the air and began to glow with heat and power, a wave of cold came out of nowhere and froze it into a popsicle.

"What the—BAH!"

Shortly after, they were rendered frozen as well.